


Bard, Thranduil and frying pan

by Serves_you_right



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:52:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3154697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serves_you_right/pseuds/Serves_you_right
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While discussing (certainly very important) matters, Thranduil, Bard and Gandalf had some... incident. Involves certain drama-queen elf, a knocked-out wizard and certain kitchen equipment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bard, Thranduil and frying pan

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I just couldn't get this scene out of my head, so here it is. A very short oneshot, inspired by that brilliant post: https://www.facebook.com/340871732735586/photos/pb.340871732735586.-2207520000.1420925228./414926881996737/?type=3&theater

Newly established camp was pulsing with noises, hasted movements and lively diversity. What till recently has been green landscape of ruins in the foothills, now was turned into rows of war tents and trodden paths, as the elves and men were working side-by-side, though still watching each other with wary caution, as not water enought have passed through the Lake since the fragile alliance was concluded, to bound them with trust.  
And though one could easily say, that tha camp was vivid and rattling, do not let yourself be fooled, as the real events of the day were hidden from a sight of peepers, in one insignificant tent raised on the sidelines...

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*  
  
"Oh" A muffled sound escaped through an unchanged expression of Thranduil's lips, as Gandalf softly felt on the ground; a metal pot still vibrated piercingly in elf's grip.  
"Oh?" Bard frowned, looking at the knocked-out wizard lying on the floor. "Why did you do that?"  
"Haven't you said it yourself, that your senses  didn't see the Wizard trusty and we needn't him interfere with our matters, turning them on his own schemes?" The elf didn't even bother to glance at Bard, while speaking.  
"Well, yeah, but why did you hit him with a pan?!"  
"I'm in no place to explain myself to _a man_." Thranduil straighten himself up even more, to emphasize his point.  
 Bard just shook his head in disbelief. _He just doesn't know why..._  
"So, ekm, what are we going to do now" the bowman asked with a gulp, once again turning his gaze to the lying figure. Thranduil took few smooth steps and stopped behind the man.  
They looked at each other. Bard's intense glare met with elf's eyes.  
-  
"You'll have to burry him." Thranduil spoke with an indifferent voice. "Dig a deep hole, so no one shall ever find the body."  
Bard shook a deathly gaze at the elven king.  
"Why me?!"  
"You don't expect me to do a physical labour! I'm way too dignified to dirty myself with some low-graded mud. I have responsibilities to my royal bloodline." Thrandiul gave a perfectly-nailed  'I'm too pretty for this shit' look to his companion. Then he lifted higher his slim chin for greater result, checking out of the corner of his eye for effect.  
Bard smartly decided it would be better to just drop the topic. "Besides, wizard is not dead." He only said. Then, seeing Thranduil's unconcerned expression, he decided to add "We can't burry a living person."  
"Is it so? Oh. Then we can put him into one of my dungeons. Mirkwood has many caverns, and some of them are deep and winding."  
"And, of course" the Elvenking continued "we'll need someone to play the wizard's role to ours kin, since they will expect to see Mithrandir with us, when we rush to Erebor with Arkenstone."  
Bard looked at the other with shared confederacy. "Someone, no one knows here."  
They both nodded in agreement.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"Stop this! I-I demand you both to stop it instantly!"  
Bard and Thranduil, in perfect cooperative, put another layer of a cloth on resisting Bilbo.  
"I will take your gift of help in this hard times, o Bilbo the Magnificient." said the king gravely. “And I name you elf-friend and blessed. May your shadow never grow less. We are severly grateful for your generous offering to volounteer..."  
"I didn't volunteeeer!!!"

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"And then they-they" the one fluffy, stirred hobbit, with his his head hidden deep under the skin-blankets and his face turned all up in fiery reddish, hiccuped in embarrassment "then they dressed me into one of old grey dresses of Tilda, you know, Bard's lovely daughter, a-and said no one would ever tell the difference - but of course everyone do! - thoug no one really had said a word. And they put me on a horse, a real, full-scale horse, Thorin! I thought I was going to die just from peeking at the ground."  
Thorin let out a hartful laugh and offered his burglar a consoling hug (but only after he managed to dig the hobbit out from beneath the furry skins). Bilbo, deprived of his protective blankets, immediately hidden his face into Thorin's wide chest, not daring to even look at the dwarf. He made some mumbling sounds.  
"That was dredfully embarassing, you know." Thorin deductet from Biblo's babble.  
"I can imagine that. Thoug I must admit it to them, you did look splendorous, when you've came to bargain me." the dwarf chuckled "Am I to call you Tharkûn now, instead of Consort?"  
"Thorin!"

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to everyone who bore with me untill end notes :)  
> And apparently, the image of Bilbo roleplaying as Gandalf was so ridiculous, that even Thorin's gold-sickness lost to it's glory xD. Well, you certainly can't understimate the power of hobbits in dresses! Hahaha.


End file.
